


Buchou in Training

by Whisper132



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-20
Updated: 2006-06-20
Packaged: 2017-10-23 15:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whisper132/pseuds/Whisper132
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ohtori and Kaidoh have complications and get over said complications.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Buchou in Training

Ohtori didn’t expect things to be this difficult.

“That’s what you get for messing with Seigaku,” Shishido said when Ohtori asked for advice on dealing with grouchy, unexpressive individuals. Shishido was one, so Ohtori figured that if he knew what Shishido-san wanted in a relationship, he’d be able to deal with Kaidoh. Ohtori should’ve known Shishido-san wouldn’t be the person to ask.

“It’s not that bad, Shishido-san. He’s very nice and his mother is a wonderful cook.” Ohtori’s frustration with Kaidoh Kaoru was like the feeling Ohtori got when he kept missing the Scud Serve in the regional match against Seigaku. He wanted to take his racquet and whip a freshman until he was bloody and crying on the courts.

Those feelings were unproductive, though, and would require more cleanup than the catharsis was worth. No, steady planning was needed.

  
&-&

  
“What the hell are you reading?” Hiyoshi plucked a book from Ohtori’s hands. “Dating for the Masters? You been talking to Oshitari? Did he give you this?”

Choutarou swiped the book back and thwapped Hiyoshi on the head. “I’m studying,” he said around the carrot stick in his mouth.

“That Seigaku guy?”

Ohtori chose to ignore the snide tone. Ohtori won his game against Seigaku and had the right to be smug. Hiyoshi had the right to get his ass back in the gym and practice harder. “Did you know that the arch of the foot is an erogenous zone?” Ohtori stuck his foot out from under the desk and stared at it. “I wonder how that works. He doesn’t wear socks, so he’s probably got a callous.”

“You’re actually thinking about this, Ohtori. That’s your first problem.”

Ohtori closed his book. “Hey Hiyoshi, give me your foot. I want to check something.”

  
&-&

  
“Choutarou, can we talk?” Shishido pulled Ohtori aside after practice. “What’d you do to Hiyoshi?”

“Just gave him a foot massage, Shishido-san.”

In the corner, Hiyoshi used Oshitari as a shield, shouting over his senpai’s shoulder. “You violated me!”

“Look, just apologize or something so he’ll stop acting like a girl.” Shishido closed his eyes tightly and exhaled a large breath. His concern was probably a product of Atobe telling him to fix whatever was making Hiyoshi a disturbance.

“I don’t think apologizing will do much, Shishido-san.” Ohtori turned his most charming smile to Hiyoshi, causing the other boy to squeak and burrow himself in Oshitari’s back. “He can’t go against his nature.”

Ohtori could see waves of irritation wafting from Hiyoshi’s huddled form and was not surprised when Hiyoshi launched off Oshitari’s shoulders in a feat of acrobatics that, had Gakuto not still been in the shower, would’ve had Oshitari’s doubles partner in a fit. “Gekokujou!”

“Ore-sama is not amused.” Atobe snapped and Kabaji was suddenly there, grabbing Hiyoshi out of the air and dragging him over to Atobe. “Ohtori, must ore-sama resort to laps?”

“No Atobe-buchou.” Ohtori gave the contrite look that Atobe loved so much. It got him out of anything so long as he didn’t laugh and ruin the mood.

“Good. Come Shishido, ore-sama has need of you.” Atobe snapped and moved toward his office, the office Ohtori would be occupying in a few short weeks when the third years retired. The first thing Ohtori was going to do with the office was strip the pansy-ass wallpaper and put up a sensible coat of paint, beige or something equally normal.

“I’m not your fucking dog,” Shishido said even as he stomped after Atobe. Poor Shishido-san had to put up with a lot. Kaidoh would be better behaved, though. He was already very respectful and hard working. If Ohtori could just get him to give in and go on a date, then everything would be perfect.

  
&-&

  
“Kaidoh-buchou!” Kachiro ran up to Kaidoh huffing and clutching at his stomach. “Kaidoh-buchou, the enemy! The enemy!”

Kaidoh really like having buchou added to his name. It sounded right, like it was always supposed to be there. “Who is it?” Kaidoh adjusted his bandana, blue now that he was buchou, and looked at his clipboard. This would be the fifth spy in the last two days and the school year wasn’t even over yet.

“Everything okay Kaidoh?” Fuji asked. While the senpai were still coming to practices, the running of the team was handed over to the kouhai, Kaidoh as captain and Momo as vice captain.

“Everything’s fine senpai.” Kaidoh jotted down the occurrence in the disturbance log Inui-senpai made for him it. Without a data player, Kaidoh would have to take over statistics. “Kachiro, tell Momoshiro to deal with it.” Kaidoh made another note, then looked to where the team was busy running. “Faster! Three more laps for slacking!” If he could run 10 kilometers a day, the team could do twenty laps for a warm-up and not complain. Training, there needed to be much more training if Seigaku was to win again.

  
&-&

  
“Sorry Mamushi, I tried but,” Momoshiro shrugged and strode off to oversee the rallies. “Hoi, Arai, take it easy!”

“He’s pretty insistent,” Ohtori said, looking over the training.

“He’s a trained monkey in sneakers,” Kaidoh grumbled, stepping away when Ohtori moved a little too close. Ohtori was nice, very nice, and a very functional individual. He was also Hyoutei’s captain next year and probably here to spy.

“I thought dinner would be nice,” Ohtori said, making a show of not staring at Kaidoh’s clipboard. “We can talk about scheduling some practice matches over the summer. All our talent’s going with our senpai, so we’ll need your help if we’re to keep Rikkai and Fudomine at bay.”

It was a reasonable request, as most of Ohtori’s requests were. Kaidoh played doubles with Inui, though, so he knew that every reasonable request was a setup for something altogether unreasonable. “I have to go over training schedules with Momoshiro.” The fact that being buchou meant Kaidoh often had to be in the same room with Momoshiro and not knock him senseless was one of the downsides of the job.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind rescheduling. I can wait until you’re done, if you like.” Again, that reasonable, reasonable tone and a nice guy smile. Kaidoh knew Fuji-senpai, so he also knew smiles were usually hiding sinister intention.

“What do you want?” Kaidoh asked, tired of chit-chat and vocal rallies. “I’m busy and…let go of my hand.”

Ohtori looked down at their hands, joined around Kaidoh’s pencil. “I’ll wait for you outside the gates, okay?”

Kaidoh hissed and pulled his hand away. “Fine.” Agreeing was the only way to get Ohtori to go away. Kaidoh realized he was setting a bad precedent, but the freshmen were almost done with rallies, Arai and Momo were about to get into a fight, and Kikumaru-senpai was distracting Echizen from his insubordination laps.

  
&-&

  
Kaidoh’s bandanas were stupid. He had lovely hair and looked much more attractive when he didn’t look like some sort of yakuza. He’d probably clean up well in a suit, too. “Let’s go to a nice restaurant tomorrow night,” Ohtori said, reaching across the table to pluck some of Kaidoh’s beef udon.

“What’s wrong with this?” Kaidoh knocked Ohtori’s chopsticks away, shifting his bowl so Ohtori couldn’t reach without standing up. Of course, that left Kaidoh scrunched in the corner of the booth, trying to look like scrunched in the corner was how he always sat and if you thought differently then he’d kick you in the stomach.

“Besides the rampant insects and the lack of filtered water, nothing.” Fortunately, Ohtori always carried a bottle of water with him.

Kaidoh raised an eyebrow and it burrowed under his bandana. “Snob.”

Ohtori was about to call Kaidoh a peasant when he realized the conversation was beginning to sound like one Atobe and Shishido had in the lockeroom the day previous.

He did not want to be Atobe.

“Sorry Kaidoh, I was being rude.”

“Yes, you were.” Kaidoh wasn’t one for gracefully accepting apologies, but he did scoot out of the corner a bit.

  
&-&

  
Ohtori poked his head into Atobe’s office and, resisting the urge to scowl at the seashell border on the walls, cleared his throat. “Atobe-buchou, can I ask you a question?”

Shishido scampered off Atobe’s desk, straightening his hair by scruffing it out of the neatly-combed state Atobe had just placed it into. Atobe had weird hair fetishes, probably because he was still growing his hair back from the Nationals Incident. Still, it was unfair that Atobe still looked good, even without hair or without a nationals medal. Ohtori won his match. He was better. Yet it was Atobe who had a Shishido and Ohtori who was still struggling to gain Kaidoh’s affections.

“Hey Choutarou.” Shishido pretended like he wasn’t just on Atobe’s desk, looking like an appetizer. “See ya round.” Shishido beat a hasty exit, leaving Ohtori alone with Atobe.

“You wished an audience?” Atobe’s hand reached up to flick hair that wasn’t there then settled back on the desk.

“I…” This was more difficult and demeaning than it was supposed to be. “I need advice, Atobe-buchou.”

  
&-&

  
Ohtori checked his reflection, adjusting his tie for the fifth time and teasing out his bangs for the tenth. He was perfect. Hopefully Kaidoh would notice.

“Lookin’ sharp, Choutarou,” his father said, handing him some money. “Make sure you take her out for a nice dessert.”

Choutarou pocketed the money, not bothering to mention that Kaidoh thought tofu was a dessert and would hit him if he suggest putting anything sugary into Kaidoh’s body.

“Choutarou.” Ohtori-san snapped his fingers in front of Choutarou’s face. “Don’t fall asleep before your big date.” Ohtori-san grinned and patted Choutarou on the back in two loud thumps.

“Yeah,” Choutarou said, realizing that thinking about things that could go into Kaidoh’s body was not a productive way to make his father stop asking questions about his mystery date. “Thanks dad.”

“Be home by 11.”

Choutarou blinked. He was drifting again. “No problem.” He gave a 60 watt smile and a thumbs up. “Wish me luck.”

  
&-&

  
Kaidoh showed up in black jeans and a vest, no t-shirt. He reasoned that if he was underdressed, Ohtori would back out of the expensive restaurant and they could get some ramen at a street vendor and call it good.

Ohtori came equipped with an extra suit and a comb. “No bandanas,” he said, pulling the blue fabric from Kaidoh’s head and lunging forward with the comb.

Kaidoh bore the humiliation as well as he could, hissing and snarling, but secretly enjoying having such a fuss made over him. “Stop it, you’re embarrassing,” he hissed, swatting Ohtori away after a little too much fussing with his hair.

“You’re presentable, at least,” Ohtori said in that soft way that didn’t sound insulting, even though the things Ohtori was saying would normally cause Kaidoh to lash out with a fist or two. He certainly wouldn’t be taking this crap from Momoshiro.

  
&-&

  
“We’ll have the lobster with garlic butter sauce,” Ohtori told their waiter, who looked at them suspiciously before Ohtori slipped him some money under the table. “And we’ll have it quickly.”

“Yes sir,” the waiter said, no longer distressed at serving 14 year olds a 20000 yen meal. So this was how the rich lived. Annoying. You didn’t have to tip the guy at Happy Burger to get your food faster.

“I wanted a steak,” Kaidoh said to break the violin-filled pause. “Garlic butter isn’t on my list of approved foods for this training period.” Kaidoh took the list from his back pocket. “Neither is lobster.” Ohtori would do well to be mindful of what he ate. Washboard abs and sleek limbs deteriorated quickly without attention. Ohtori would be a lot less tolerable without the washboard abs and the sleek limbs.

“What’re you thinking about?” Ohtori asked, stirring his sparkling water.

“You need to train more,” Kaidoh said, pulling a small packet out of his pocket and dumping it into his water, turning the liquid a purple-green medley.

Ohtori put a hand over his nose and mouth. “What is that?”

“It’s an energy formula that Inui-senpai made. They’re in packets for travel.”

“You drink it?” Ohtori was turning green. Kaidoh did when he started the drinks but now he had immunity. Ohtori would get used to it. Kaidoh would ask Inui to make Ohtori some packets.

  
&-&

  
In the end, Kaidoh ate the lobster and enjoyed it, though he would have to add an extra set of shuttle runs to his training to counteract the unnecessary calories.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Ohtori asked as they left the train.

“Training.” Tomorrow was Saturday and Kaidoh had practice with the team, then his own personal training menu. Kaidoh allowed his eyes to move over Ohtori from head to toe. “You should train too. Be at Seigaku at three. Don’t be late.” Kaidoh walked away, hands in the pockets of his borrowed trousers. “Bring my pants.”

  
&-&

  
Atobe-buchou said that patience and compromise were essential in the opening phases of any relationship. After the first month, they weren’t important, but the opening dates were crucial.

Atobe-buchou never had to run 3 kilometers with weights on, do 5 sets of 20 push-ups, then run another 2 kilometers, just to do more push-ups, shuttle runs, and some sitting twisty thing that made Choutarou’s spine crackle.

Kaidoh was insane.

Ohtori didn’t blame Kaidoh, though, he blamed the weird senpai that put Kaidoh up to the ridiculous training schedule in the first place. The senpai who called three times during training to speak code with Kaidoh.

“Drink this. Senpai made a special recipe for you.” Kaidoh pushed a clear water bottle full of bubbling red liquid at Ohtori.

“No.” Compromise and martyrdom were completely different.

  
&-&

  
Shishido-san was probably surprised when he came into Atobe’s house to find Atobe and Ohtori sitting in the entertainment room, sipping cranberry juice and chatting like old golf friends.

“I refused,” Ohtori said, waving to Shishido. “It was going to kill me.”

Shishido stayed where he was until Atobe waved him over. “Don’t be shy, Shishido, we’re just having a conversation.”

“That’s what worries me,” Shishido mumbled, stealing Atobe’s glass and chugging it.

“It was melting the bottle cap, Atobe-buchou. Melting it.” Ohtori shivered at the memory.

“I see.” Atobe absently fluffed Shishido’s hair. “Shishido, go play billiards. Ore-sama requires more private time with Ohtori.”

“No.” Shishido pulled away and sat on a chair across the way. “I’m not letting you fill his head with your elitist crap.”

“Shishido, this is important to ore-sama. Please leave.” Atobe was taking slow breaths through his nose.

“Screw you.”

“You see, Ohtori, that having a relationship with unclassed ruffians is sometimes difficult and often a matter of endurance.” Atobe rose. “There are, of course, strategies, which I will email you later this evening.” Atobe walked to Shishido and continued to ruffle his hair. “If you’ll excuse us, I must have a discussion with Ryou.”

Ohtori bowed and walked out quickly before he saw a side of Shishido-san he never wanted to see. Atobe-buchou often went overboard on retribution when he felt publicly embarrassed.

  
&-&

  
Kaidoh was not waiting for Ohtori to call and apologize. He did not keep pulling out his cell phone and his phone was certainly not on the highest volume setting when he usually kept it on silent.

Ohtori was an ass and could go fuck himself.

“Kaoru, you have a visitor.”

Kaidoh hissed and adjusted his bandana. He wore it all the time now, even to bed. He liked it and no prissy Hyoutei kid was going to make him stop wearing it.

“Kaoru, your guest.”

Kaidoh turned his phone back to silent and stormed down the stairs.

Ohtori looked up from discussion with Kaidoh’s mother and smiled. “Hello Kaidoh-kun.” He held up a bag. “I brought some desserts I thought you might like to have while we study for that math exam you were worried about.”

Kaidoh Kaoru did not need help in school, least of all from the likes of Ohtori Choutarou. But first, Kaidoh had to get his mother out of the room. “Thank you, your help is much appreciated.”

“Are you having trouble in school, Kaoru? You didn’t tell me.”

“Oh it’s nothing important,” Ohtori assured, pushing the treats into Kaidoh-san’s hands. “He just wanted me to check his practice tests and trade some formulas, that’s all. There’s some in there for everyone, so please help yourself.”

Kaidoh-san brightened and looked into the bag. “How wonderful of you. We always look forward to your visits Ohtori-kun.”

Kaidoh watched his mother leave the room and, when she was out of earshot he rounded on Ohtori. “Come to shower gifts on the peasants now?”

“Can I say I’m sorry before you beat the crap out of me, or do I get to say it after?”

Ohtori didn’t look sorry but he didn’t look smug, either. Kaidoh felt his anger dissolving and tried desperately to hold onto it. He would not let Ohtori make a habit of insulting his senpai and friends. “Let’s go.” Kaidoh stomped to the door and began putting his sneakers on.

“I don’t have my racquet.”

“You won’t need it. First we run, 3 kilometers, then we do muscle training, then we run again. If you can’t keep up, then go home.” Kaidoh ran out the door, Ohtori not far behind him.

  
&-&

  
“Drink it,” Kaidoh said, pushing a familiar clear water bottle toward Ohtori.

Ohtori didn’t think that Kaidoh was really going to be this cruel. He should’ve known better.

First, Ohtori ran. He ran and ran and ran until his sides ached and his ankles popped when he circled them. Kaidoh didn’t slow down for him, though, and Ohtori kept puffing and wheezing until they came to the same park where Ohtori had damned himself two days ago.

Without a moment’s wait, Kaidoh began training. Squats, shuttle runs, pull-ups, push-ups, Kaidoh did it all and in high quantity. Ohtori followed because he deserved it and “humor him” was the first thing on Atobe’s list. The last thing on the list was a note from Shishido telling Ohtori to “suck it up and stop acting like Hiyoshi.”

Now Kaidoh wanted him to drink the Jiru.

While running 3 kilometers in loafers was almost the most painful experience of Ohtori’s 14 years of life. The winner in Ohtori’s Most Painful Moments countdown was the six seconds following the moment the red juice slid down his throat. First, his tongue went dry. His eyes stung and his throat started to close. Then, just as his stomach twisted as tightly as it possibly could, Ohtori’s vision gave out.

  
&-&

  
Ohtori awoke to rustling leaves, birdsong, and Kaidoh panting. Lolling his head to the side, Ohtori watched Kaidoh do sit-ups on the grass, his shorts sliding up enough that Ohtori could see the untanned portion of his legs. They’d have to spend some time by the pool this summer so Kaidoh could bronze himself properly.

Kaidoh in a Speedo was just an added bonus, really.

“You’re awake,” Kaidoh said, eyes wide.

Ohtori groaned and rolled of the bench onto the grass. “What’s in that stuff?”

“It’s Inui-senpai’s secret recipe. We’ll dilute it down for you next time.” Kaidoh began to jog in place. “Time to go.”

This was a test. If he didn’t run back, Kaidoh would call him weak and dump him. No one dumped Ohtori Choutarou, future captain of Hyoutei Gakuen’s tennis club.

“I’m ready.” Swallowing the urge to vomit, Ohtori tested his legs, amazed that they felt sturdy, strong.

“The nausea wears off in a couple minutes,” Kaidoh said, giving the first real smile Ohtori had ever received from him.

Everything was whistling wind and birdsong.

“Good,” Ohtori said loudly enough to be heard above the celestial music.

&-&

Kaidoh fell on his bed, sweaty and tired. Ohtori fell down beside him, sweatier and even more tired. Kaidoh was used to the training. Ohtori was used to Hyoutei’s meager workouts.

“Everyday,” Kaidoh huffed. “You have to train everyday.”

Ohtori’s hand slid over Kaidohs, mingling their sweat. “Take it easy on me for a while?”

“No. You’ll get used to it.” He wanted to look over, see Ohtori’s face flushed with exertion and drenched in perspiration, proof of Ohtori’s contrition. He didn’t look, though, because he was 14 and had little control over his impulses.

Ohtori’s hand slid up Kaidoh’s arm and across his chest. With a grunt, Ohtori hefted himself up and leaned over Kaidoh, their lips a handspan apart. “Dinner every Friday,” Ohtori said between breaths. “In the nice suit. No bandana.”

Kaidoh watched Ohtori’s lips move, unconsciously leaning upward while Ohtori descended.

A drop of sweat from Ohtori’s forehead fell and landed in Kaidoh’s eye. He jerked forward, bumping Ohtori in the head, causing him to bite his lip.

“Get off me, you’re disgusting,” Kaidoh said, shoving Ohtori to the ground.

“Be sure to bathe before the date, Kaidoh.” Ohtori licked the blood off his lips, once again drawing Kaidoh’s eye to them.

Kaidoh’s eye still stung and Ohtori’s lip was still bleeding, yet they found themselves lunging forward, lips meeting in a slippery, off-target way, hands squeezing a little too hard on sore muscles. The second they both got their first good taste of blood intermingled with sweat, the kiss was over and Ohtori was again shoved five feet away form Kaidoh.

“That never happened,” Kaidoh said, trying to catch the breath he’d yet to recover from the run.

“We were training,” Ohtori said.

“Yes.”

Ohtori collected himself, straightening his shirt and dusting off his pants. “We’ll talk about those practice matches at my house this weekend. You can stay for dinner.”

Kaidoh showed Ohtori to the door. “I’ll bring dessert.”

Ohtori licked his lips, smearing crusted blood. “Just bring yourself.”


End file.
